


Crescent City

by DMichelleWrites



Series: D's Olicity Summer Sizzle [2]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012), Scooby Doo - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Disabled Character, F/M, Gen, Marriage Proposal, Pregnancy, Werecats, Zombies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-04
Updated: 2019-07-04
Packaged: 2020-06-03 13:50:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19465309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DMichelleWrites/pseuds/DMichelleWrites
Summary: Join Oliver, Felicity, William, and the Scooby gang on their adventures from Crescent City to Moonscar Island.It'sScooby-Doo on Zombie Islandwith a littleArrowtwist.





	Crescent City

Sunlight pours through the large window of Dinkley’s Mystery Bookshop. The overhead flat screen TV reruns a 9AM interview between fiery redhead reporter Daphne Blake and morning talk show host Tamra Hill. The camera operator does a close up on Blake sipping a cup of coffee in a lavender mug.

Daphne sighs, “I really miss those guys.”

Fred snaps his fingers behind the main camera. A lightbulb turns on in his mind.

“We miss you too, Daph.” Velma agrees, leaning against her check out counter.

Her favorite customer finally looks up from her book, “Sorry, did you say something?”

Velma’s red ballet flats shuffle over the musty coffee stained blue carpet. She knelt down to the strawberry blonde’s level, and her lips tick up in a soft smile.

Velma repeats, pushing the glasses up her nose, “I said I really miss the gang, Felicity. It’s been difficult to reconnect with all of us living in different cities.” The store owner fixates on Felicity’s ginger dye job. After a long beat, Velma realizes, “I’m sorry I shouldn’t have played that interview with you in here, considering Daph is…”

Felicity supplies with a pointed stare, “My husband’s ex-girlfriend. That was forever ago.”

“High school,” Her friend recalls.

The Queens and Blakes ran in the same aristocratic circles. It was bound to happen eventually, but Daphne always had a major crush on Fred. And the feeling is still mutual.

“Besides do I look like the jealous type?” She scoffs, setting an old favorite Nancy Drew novel onto her lap.

Velma cringes, making ambiguous gestures around Felicity’s vibrant orange locks, “Well, the h-hair, the hair, I wasn’t exactly sure, ‘Lis.”

“Please.” Felicity harrumphs, plucking a holographic Green Arrow bookmark off the page, “I’ll have you know, I always wanted to sneak some red into my look.”

Velma raises her hands in defense, “My bad. My bad.”

“It’s fine. Now can I please get back to my book?”

The bookstore owner appeases, knees creaking as she gets back on her feet, “Of course. Oh and you know you’re going to have to buy that copy before you roll on out of here.”

Felicity dimisses with a wave, “Yeah, yeah, put it on my tab.”

“You know, far be it from me to pry, Felicity?”

She chuckles in interruption, “It’s you, V, you always love a good mystery.”

“Right, no argument there.” Velma wonders, scratching her chin, “But you and Oliver just renewed your wedding vows, shouldn’t you two, I don’t know, go on a romantic honeymoon to Paris or something.”

“It was an unplanned spur of the moment thing.” Felicity mentions, nudging Velma’s shoulder, “You should know you were there.”

“Yes, but I also love a good love story, so tell me about how he re-proposed.”

* * *

Strangely enough, Oliver and Felicity got remarried on Fourth of July weekend. He got down on one knee, presenting his wife with a three karat princess cut diamond engagement ring that once belonged to his mother Moira Queen. The only difference was her engagement ring and wedding band were reenforced with kelcite, the strongest nth metal in the multiverse.

Felicity remembers fondly, “It was perfect.”

January had been a whirlwind of a month. Felicity had gotten in a bad car wreck that left her paralyzed from the waist down. Six weeks later when his wife was finally home from the hospital, Oliver arranged a romantic picnic in the gazebo in their huge backyard. After a night of hearty steak, effervescent champagne, and ooey gooey chocolate lava cupcakes, Felicity discovered her husband asking her to keep loving him and what they have together — no matter where life takes them next.

“Felicity Megan Smoak-Queen, will you do me the honor of marrying me again?” Oliver asks, his hands trembling. She doesn’t understand why he’s nervous. They’re already married.

The tech mogul pauses for dramatic effect and taps her red lips, “Hm, I don’t know.”

“You can say no if you want,” William teases from behind his phone, recording the second proposal.

“Not helping, son.” Oliver grits. He draws out her name like a smooth and flavorful soup broth, “Felicity.”

Doubt and anxiety creep into her mind. Her gaze flicks from her front tires to her husband, who was sweating through his dress shirt in the middle of a Michigan winter.

His wife suspects, peering over her glasses, “This isn’t a pity vow renewal attempt because of my accident, is it?”

“What? No, no, no. Felicity, Honey, of course not.” Oliver assures, dotting soft kisses over her bare knuckles, “This is because I love you more than you know, and I think it’s about damn time we get the wedding we deserve.”

His bright blue eyes looked at her with such warmth, peace, and adoration. Felicity stared back at him with pure love and the belief that he was telling her the truth.

“Well, someone say something.” William complains, squirming around like he has to take a leak in the bushes, “It’s freezing out here.”

His wife nods, “Yes.”

“Yeah?” Her husband grins, wondering if he heard her correctly.

She repeats with a giggle, “Yes, yes, yes.”

Oliver delicately slides the new/old engagement ring back on her finger. Their lips collide in a passionate kiss, thumbs pooling in his dimples. Oliver’s pecks her mouth again in a second smooch like a cherry atop an ice cream sundae. Their black Labrador whippet mix, Beau, trots between the happy couple. He woofs and shakes the tiny mint green ring box off his back. And William who nearly trips over his own feet, does a knee slide to join the Queen family hug.

William cheers, “Mazel tov.”

“Thanks, Buddy.” His father guffaws, ruffling his hair.

His step-mother inquires, “Yeah, did you know about this?”

“I… uh.” His bladder nags at him. The teenager sprints behind the bushes, relieving himself.

His dad calls out, “Not on the blackberry bush, dude. Oh, damn it.”

“At least it’s not near any poison ivy,” The hacker counters, fingertips dancing up his bicep, “Or worse a cop car.”

Oliver’s cheeks flush red. His two front teeth pinch his lower lip. Felicity giggles with a head tilt. Her husband gets the message. He picks her up from her wheelchair. Felicity’s motionless legs stick to the gel padded seat, but that doesn’t deter them. Felicity’s strong arms loop around his broad shoulders. Oliver wraps her thighs around his waist, steadying her hips on either side of him. They spin in slow circles and gently sway to an old Meghan Trainor ballad under the glow of fairy lights.

Oliver wonders, nuzzling his nose with hers, “Mm, so now what?”

“Hm, I have an idea or two.” Felicity smirks, looking at him from under her eyelashes.

She spares Velma the private details. However, Felicity mentions their night ended in a leaky bottle of champagne, broken dirty dishes, and them cuddling naked on the sticky kitchen floor after William had gone to bed.

Velma interjects with a profuse blush, “Alright, let’s try to keep this PG-13.”

“Prude,” Felicity teases, fixing the ruffled sleeve of her friend’s orange cotton blouse.

The shop owner prompts, “Whatever. Let’s get to the happy ending.”

“Well, not the fun kind of happy ending.” The CEO teases with a grin splitting her face.

The best laid plans don’t always work out that way. Donna drives Felicity insane with every minor detail from dress colors to cake flavors. Felicity hasn’t even told her mother about the biggest secret of all. They found out they were expecting on Valentine’s Day. Felicity had gone back and forth about when they should do the vow renewal. Ultimately, since Oliver had to help Constantine with a teeny tiny (actual gargantuan) demon problem, in Crescent City, they were re-married by Martin Stein in a lovely garden right outside of this Louisiana City.

Her groom exhales, “Wow!”

Thea, Rory, Sara, and the rest of The Legends attend the small ceremony with his sister as Felicity’s maid of honor. Dig and William are his best men, and Beau is once again their trusted ring bearer. Unfortunately, only Velma, Shaggy, and Scooy were also in attendance because they wanted some of their local friends in the picture. Fred and Daphne were filming Coast to Coast on location in Midvale. But they would soon catch up with entire Scooby gang.

“Breathe, man.” Dig reminds, demonstrating an inhale and exhale.

Oliver follows along with him, trying to steady himself under the chuppah adorned with pink and white orchids. Something that’s never changed is the way he looks at her. Oliver still looks at Felicity like she’s hung the moon in a starry night. His bride rolls down the grassy aisle in a ruched pale pink summer dress that highlights her growing baby belly along with a flower crown. Martin does his whole officiant spiel in Hebrew. Then Oliver and Felicity recite new heartfelt wedding vows that end the exact same way.

“For now, ever, and always, I love you.” Felicity promises.

Martin asks Felicity if she’s willing to recommit herself to Oliver, their marriage, and their expanding family. 

Her voice chokes with emotion, “I-I do.”

Those third trimester hormones are unexpected little demons.

Oliver repeats, “For now, ever, and always, I love you.”

Their officiants asks Oliver the same question.

“I do.” He speaks in a gentle voice reserved only for his family.

His white metal folding chair creaks as he leans in for a kiss to seal the deal again. Felicity grabs the lapel of his wrinkled navy suit and plants a loud wet smooch on him. Their noses mash together, but it doesn’t matter. Because while the ceremony was unexpected, they finally have a celebration all their own. They smile into a slew of smaller kisses, and the couple closes out the night with beignets and hot cocoa in the french Quarter district before Shaggy and Scooby ate them all. The great dane dusts powdered sugar off his friend’s avocado green tie, and Scooby blubbers when the newlywed couple feed each other one end of a jelly filled eclair. They think the dog is more emotional over one more less reception pastry than Oliver and Felicity. The bride and groom share a laugh.

* * *

_**Present Day** _

Felicity absolutely glows with this new life brimming inside her. Her gaze darts from the gleaming emerald gem set on a crisscross kelcite and platinum band to their daughter’s swift kicks.

Velma gets up to answer her phone, “Hey, Freddie. Yeah, I’m here with Felicity now.”

Felicity makes a pert little questioning noise upon hearing her name.

“Jinkies, that’s a great idea.” His friend bid, “Okay, I’ll tell them. See you soon, Fred.”

As if on cue, the door to Dinkley’s mystery books dings, and Felicity’s boys arrive after a long morning of spear fishing in the river.

“Tell us what?” Oliver inquires, buttoning his blue plaid shirt.

He hauls Felicity up off the carpet and plops his wife gently in her manual wheelchair.

For how brilliant Velma is, the former monster hunter, is awestruck, “Da, da, dum, I, um, Freddie called, and he wants to know if you three want to tag along for Daphne’s birthday surprise.”

Felicity’s brakes squeak as she pushes herself to the front desk.

William chimes without missing a beat, “Sure.”

However, his father is hesitant. The off duty archer checks in with his wife. Will it be awkward? Even though Daph is engaged to Freddie, considering her and Oliver’s brief romantic history. Felicity’s mouth forms a thin line. She blows out a breath, and puts a smile on her face.

“Why not?” Felicity agrees, clapping her husband on the back a little too hard. He grimaces, and his wife laughs it off, “After all, we’re all friends here, right?”

“Perfect.” Velma beams with joy, “I’ll call Freddie back, and tell him we’re on our way. Oh before I forget you still owe me for that book.”

Felicity slaps dollar bills on the counter, “Right, here you go.”

Velma watches in the doorway as her friend’s lift whirs and clangs when Felicity is placed in the driver’s seat. They make a quick detour to pick up Shaggy and Scooby at the airport.

“Rogers, Doo, you’re out of here!” A stout mustached security guard bellows before he throws the boys out on their tails.

Shaggy whimpers, wiping a big fat tear from his eye, “Well, old buddy, old pal of mine. There goes the best job we ever had.”

“It’s okay, Raggy.” Scooby assures, placing a front paw on his shoulder, “We still gots the canned ram.”

The beatnik’s eyebrows fly up his face, “Ram?”

Scooby reveals a contraband honey glazed exotic ham from Spain that was behind his spotted fur. Shaggy hugs the dog tightly.

He guffaws, “Scooby Doo, you’re the greatest.”

Oliver directs with a stern voice, rivaling his Green Arrow modulator, “Hey, you two. Jump in. We’re going to be late.”

“Right away, Ree-A.” The Great Dane salutes, hopping in the back and taking the steaming hot ham with him.

Shaggy reports, “Yes, sir, Mr. Arrow, sir.” His dog scarfs he entire ham dow before the beatnik even gets the tiniest morsel, “Scoobert Doo, I can’t believe you didn’t wait for me.”

“Dee-licious.” Scooby licks his claw, patting his distended belly. He snickers in his goofy signature laugh.

William whispers through the side of his mouth, “No one else find it weird that a Great Dane walks and talks like a human. I mean it’s schway and all, but how is it possible?”

Felicity replies in a hushed tone, looking back at their son, “Rumor is there was a chemical accident at CADMUS, where the Doo pups were born.”

Shaggy denies with a sputtering laugh, “CADMUS, No, no, no. Scoob was born right outside of Crystal Cove. We did find his mom, dad, brothers, and sisters near some gnarly red fruit punch though.”

“Okay.” The teenager’s head cocks in confusion. 

Oliver looks at his son from the mirror in his sun visor.

He sucks in a sharp breath, “Just go with it, little man.”

The dynamic duo chatters away. Scooby grumbles and barks at Green Arrow and Overwatch’s furry friend, Beau. But the mutt whimpers with indignation before he jumps in William’s lap. The boy’s fingers comb through the sprite dog’s thick fur. William finds a pepperoni slice stuck to Beau’s fur with yellow stringy cheddar cheese.

“Ah! Mom, Dad! Scooby and Shaggy ate all the deep dish pizza.” William groans, throwing his hands in the air. Beau nips gently at the boy’s fingers, moving his little master’s hand back over his belly. “Now what are we going to eat for dinner?”

His step-mother assures, “Relax, buddy. Last I heard your Master Chef of a father was making a Southern feast with your Uncle Freddie.”

“Yep. My famous chili, your Uncle Freddie’s gumbo, skillet cornbread, fried catfish, corn, collard greens, and mashed potatoes.” His father checks off, listing every menu item.

Somehow, Shaggy and Scooby make their way to two empty seats in the second row next to William like two floating angels who always have room for more food.

Scooby slurps, licking his muzzle, “Yeah, yeah, yeah.”

“Oh, can I marry Oliver if things don’t work out?” Shaggy sighs dreamily, visions of cooked red crawfish dancing in his head.

Felicity refuses adamantly, “No!”

“I’ll give Velma a few recipes when we get back in the city.” Oliver offers with a chuckle.

William’s stomach rumbles. His eyes go wide at the sight of brownies and portobello mushroom sliders Shaggy and Scooby were eating like an ancient video game of Pac-Man.

William hoped, fingers threaded through Beau’s thick fur. “Can I at least have what Uncle Shaggy and Scoob are eating?”

“What are they eating, Will?”

“Brownies and portobello mushroom burgers.”

Oliver and Felicity suck air through their teeth simultaneously.

The archer questions, “Hey, Rogers?”

“Yes, bossman.”

He surmises, “Did you friend Mary Jane make those brownies and burgers?”

“Mm-hm, MJ’s one of the grooviest chicks out there. She and Velma are totally far out.”

Will requests, clutching his stomach, “So can I?”

“No, you may not.” Felicity refuses, eyes focused on the road ahead.

Their son snaps, narrowing his eyes, “But why?”

Oliver explains, “Because your Uncle Norville and his friend Mary Jane use, um, different kind of spices.”

“So? you know I’m not picky.”

Felicity clarifies, fiddling with a thread on her ripped maternity jeans, “Uh, you aren’t old enough for the different kinds of herbs and spices Uncle Shaggy uses. Now, or well, ever.”

William’s face crumples in a mix of confusion and disappointment. He doesn’t even notice that their black van comes to a stop at a large American townhouse. The family parks behind a familiar VW bus with a sixties green and blue paint job with red flowers.

Freddie loads his van with a large camera, his phone, and charger. He signals for the Queen family, Scooby, and Shaggy to sneak in the back of the Volkswagen before Daphne sees them. They do not. Even without the family of three, they’re packed in there like a whole school of catfish in a net.

“Huh, sorry, we’re running late, Daph. The traffic was murder.” Freddie sighs with a shrug, “Is this everything?”

“Uh-huh.” Daphne confirms, low kitten heels clacking against the pavement.

Freddie checks, “Got the map loaded on your phone?”

“Yeah.”

Her fiancé doubts, eyebrows raised, “Are you sure you haven’t forgotten anything?”

“Fred, what is with you?” Daphne says in annoyance, leaning in closer to him, “Yes, I’m sure. I’m sure.”

“Well, then okay.” Her man prompts, opening the creaky rear double doors.

The Scooby gang cheers all together with horns and confetti, “Happy birthday, Daphne.”

“That’s not all.” Freddie calls forth with a whistle, “Come on out, guys.”

The three Queens round the VW bus and greet the birthday girl.

Oliver waves awkwardly, shoving his hands in his pockets, “Hiya stranger.”

“Hi, Ollie.” Daphne’s mouth falls open in a small ‘o’.

Felicity cringes and rolls her eyes at that nickname. It disgusts her because Ollie is not her husband. Oliver lightly pinches her shoulder.

The hacker says, “Ooh, happy birthday, Daph.”

“Gosh, it’s so good to see everyone. Ollie, Lis, I’m so sorry I missed the whole vow renewal thing.” She smirks at Freddie, playing with a zipper on his khaki vest, “But you’ll make it to our wedding, right? It’s on November 9th.”

“Of course.” Her ex-boyfriend responds without thinking.

Felicity palms her face. She swears under her breath. How can Oliver forget something that important?

His wife reminds, “No, we won’t. I’ll be too busy giving birth to our daughter.”

“That’s not.” Oliver pulls up a digital calendar on his Smoak Tech phone, “Oh, damn, that is your due date.”

Daphne promises, “Well, we’ll be sure to send your sweet little Mia a gift.”

“So were you surprised, Aunt D?” William wonders, bouncing on his toes.

Daphne realizes, “Yeah, I was working so hard. I guess I forgot my own birthday.”

“I hope you don’t mind that I asked Oliver, Felicity, William, and the gang to come along.” Freddie hopes, slinging an arm around his fiancé.

Daphne hugs him, eyes slipping shut in content, “Oh, Freddie, this is the best birthday gift I’ve ever gotten. It’ll be just like high school.”

“Hopefully, not too much like high school.” Felicity mutters lowly, crossing her arms.

“Yeah.” Scooby licks the redhead’s face before he weaves his to Felicity. He sniffs around her belly.

Felicity chuckles, scratching his pointy ear, “I swear it’s not another ham, Scoob.”

“Raby Mia.” Scooby understands, resting his head on her lap, “Raby Mia.”

“Yep, that’s right.” Felicity smiles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes.

Scooby whimpers, sensing her pain, “Are roo okay, Rissy?”

Her lips pinch together, “I guess so.”

Scooby-Doo whines with a frown, licking her hand.

“Aw, I’ll be okay, boy.” His friend assures, patting his brown and black spots, “Thank you.”

Scooby says, pulling his sweet friend into a careful hug with his two front paws, “I rove roo, Rissy.”

Felicity lets out a breathy laugh. Her eyes are wet with unshed tears, and her sad eyes seem bigger and bluer than usual.

“I love you too, Scooby.”

Beau gets jealous and sneaks a bite of the Great Dane’s long tail.

“Rouch!” Scooby yelps angrily, snatching back his crinkly hurt tail. The pair of dogs growl at each other. They snarl and circle one another in a battle for dominance akin to their wolf ancestors. They bark loudly back and forth as if they’re cursing at each other in canine.

Beau crouches down on his hind legs, ready to pounce on the interloper. The Great Dane runs away like a fraidy cat, yelling, “Raggy, help me!”

“Oh, Scooby, you have to learn to be more mellow, man.” Shaggy palms his face, plucking some chin hairs on his super thin goatee, “This is why you and your sister Ruby never got along.”

Scooby grumbles under his breath, filing his claws. The corners of Velma’s mouth lift in a knowing smirk. A box of treats rustles behind her back.

Velma coaxes, revealing a pale orange box, “I know something that will cheer these grumpy boys up… “ She shakes said big box, “Scooby Snax.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Scooby agrees, nodding his head vigorously in anticipation, “Oh, boy. Oh boy.”

Their friend instructs, “Go long, guys!”

Beau’s floppy ears flap when he runs alongside Scooby. Velma tosses a couple of dog treats toward the front door. Beau catches his on a high jump, all four legs leapt off the ground. Scooby’s snack lands right in his mouth. He chews on the circular biscuit loudly, but it’s stale. And the sandy brown bacon tastes wrong. Scooby retches, making a queasy face. Though he still swallows it. Beau coughs his up right over Felicity’s shoes.

“Oops!” Velma notes, finger tapping her lips, “I’ve been saving these for a long time.”

Felicity snatches the box out of her friend’s hand, “Yeah, too long, V. They’re expired.”

Oliver wipes his wife’s boot clean with a baby wipe from her makeup bag.

“There you go.” Her husband mentions, “It was an honest mistake.”

“Oh, which one are you talking about, my darling?” Her voice was seemingly sweet, yet her angry face speaks volumes.

William grimaces at that supposed term of endearment. Felicity only calls Oliver darling when she’s super pissed and has to play nice in public.

Their son advises in a hushed tone, “Don’t poke the bear, dad. It’s a trap.”

Felicity cuts in, “No, no, no. Which mistake were you referring to, Oliver? Beau’s barf, or just ten minutes ago when you so blatantly forgot our daughter’s birthday?”

“Trap, trapity, trap trap.” Their son sings and then purposefully coughs, “Apologize fast.”

“You’re right. You’re right. That’s unforgivable.” Oliver relents, fingers splaying out over her belly. “I’m sorry.”

His wife gruffs, not looking him in the eyes, “Yeah, you should be.”

“I’ll make it up to you. I swear.”

Felicity harrumphs, “We’ll see about that.”

“Okay.” Freddie directs, sensing the tension between his friends, “It’s getting late. We should probably hit the road, gang. Scoob, Shag, come on you two are with us now.”

Three cities across the Louisiana state line, and they turn out to be nothing but duds. Felicity realizes the haunted mansion in New Orleans is nothing but smoke and mirrors from a greedy couple who owns a pawn shop near Baton Rouge Oliver and Freddie tackle a supposed meta-human like King Shark, although in actuality, he’s a fisherman down on his luck dressed in a big crawdad suit. Velma snaps a photo of Oliver and Freddie unmasking the smarmy oaf on her Polaroid camera. Felicity scans and uploads a digital copy to the Mystery kids website.

Velma thinks, adjusting her glasses, “I can’t quite put my finger on it. But do you ever think Fred and Oliver look alike, Felicity? Sort of like they could be long lost brothers or cousins, maybe.”

Sure, Freddie and Oliver are both tall, though the archer has just one inch on him. They both have blonde hair and blue eyes. The two men have a similar build, but in Felicity’s honest opinion, her husband is much more hand than their executive producer buddy.

“Eh, I don’t see it.” Felicity squints and leans in closer to the screen, “Besides Oliver’s beefier in a good way, and his abs are…” She sighs deliriously happy, “Oh my god, woo!”

Her friend sighs wistfully, slowly stirring creamer into her latte, “And those broad shoulders are dreamy.”

“What is it with you and broad shoulders? First Dean. Now my husband, mind you I’ll let that one slide. Shaggy’s great and all, but I’m starting to feel like he’s not your type.”

Velma realizes, “Yeah, what works on paper may not always be right. But Norville and I, believe or not, we fit together just as well as Freddie and Daph. There’s a side to him that other people don’t get to see. He’s funny, loyal to a fault, and surprisingly charming.”

“It sounds to me like you almost described Beau and Scooby-Doo.” Felicity teases playfully, sticking her tongue out at her friend.

“Uh, I did not.”

The CEO argues in a high pitched amused voice, “Yes, you did.”

Velma slaps her forehead.

The librarian asks, “So how are things between you and Oliver?”

“Uh, you know the usual.” Felicity excuses, looking at her neon green and sky blue nails.

Velma hums in disbelief, “Mm-hm.”

Her Smoak Tech cellphone pings with a text from her boyfriend.

“What is it?”

“We’ve got to go meet Oliver and company at the gas station.”

Daphne and Fred slump onto a wooden bench. Fred’s brushes dirt off of his fiancé vibrant purple suede boots. Oliver leans against a support beam, frowning at that antiquated paint job on Jones’ bus. Beau was panting heavily under a shady spot.

Daphne exhales, “Darn, this is starting to feel a little too much like old times.”

“I’m sure we’ll find something soon, Daph.” Her man reassures, fingertips dancing up her calf.

Oliver concurs, “I’ve seen a lot of stuff in my five years on the island. Something crazy always has its way of finding us.”

“Uh, do I even want to know?” William asks, playing with his hoodie strings.

Felicity greets, “Hey, what’d we miss? And where are Shag and Scoob?”

The best buddies are where the gang would definitely expect to find them. The lanky young man and his trusted sidekick are at the local market in hopes for some good grub. The boys are ready to devour a couple countless decker capicola, ham, and Swiss cheese sandwiches that are stacked all the way up to the top of the vendor’s booth. The Queens and the Scooby gang spot a familiar outfit of a green shirt and red bell bottoms.

“Of course. Where else would they be to get a bite to eat?” Velma giggles behind her hand.

The chef finally whips two of the most massive sandwiches he’s ever made. Scooby dumps an insane of hot sauce on his half.

The stout with a curly mop and Creiole accent notices, “Mm, I see you boys like it hot. You know I have made plenty of big po’ boys in time, but these have them all.

“Like, hey buddy, don’t hog all the hot sauce,” Shaggy reminds, pouring the same crazy amount on his half.

The chef belly laughs, “Sacrebleu, this is incredibly fiery. You Americans amuse me.”

Shaggy feels, “More hotta, more betta. Eh, Scoob?”

“More hotta, more betta,” His furry friend agrees.

Their jaws practically unhinge as they consume the massive tower of bread, meat, and cheese. Scooby wolfs Shaggy’s sandwich down before he even gets the chance to eat it. His face turns screaming red hot. Scooby barrels through the market, knocking everyone down in his path. The dog laps at the well water like he’s been dehydrated for days.

Shaggy shouts, “Scooby-Doo, where are you?”

He chases after the dog, only to accidently tackle a beautiful brunette woman dressed like a gypsy in the market.

He gulps, “Like my bad, miss. I was just trying to find my buddy.”

“My, my.” The woman says in a sweet Southern accent, dusting herself off, “There seems to be a lot of people in a hurry around these parts today.”

Felicity points to Shaggy, “There he is. Damn, you chickens run fast, and I thought that only happened when you had a case to solve.”

“And it’ll probably be another man in a mask.” Daphne sighs dejectedly, “Louisiana is supposed to be the prime for ghost hunting, and I want to find a real life ghost.”

The strawberry blonde corrects, “Uh, is that kind of an oxymoron? I’m sure there has to be a haunted house somewhere.”

“There is I work in one. I work as a chef at a house on Moonscar island — a house that really is hauted” The stranger mentions with a smirk, picking up an orange bell pepper. She introduces, “Sorry, I couldn’t help, but overhear. My name is Lena, Lena Dupree.”

“Jinkies, a real haunted house!” Velma exclaims.

Daphne asks, “Moonscar island, where is that?”

Felicity’s cellphone keyboard swiftly clicks under her thumbs.

“Looks like it’s a bayou not far from the market,” Felicity reports.

Lena tells the tale of this strange place, “A pilaging pirate named Morgan Moonscar died on the island, and his spirit still haunts the house.”

“Uh-huh.” Freddie doubts, “It’s probably some man in a mask or someone with a hologram project trying to make a quick buck.”

Lena believes, “The ghost is real. In fact, y’all are welcome to come by if you like after I’m done shopping.”

Felicity goes into Overwatch mode, and searches Moonscar island with help from a special database of the magical variety that she made Constantine set up years ago after his first visit to Star City.

The hacker says in surprise, “Woah, I just punched in Moonscar island on the JC database. There are so many laylines.”

“Laylines?”

Her husband supplies in explanation, “It means there’s definite paranormal activity on that island.”

“Well, alright.” Daphne has an extra pep in her step, “Sounds like our best bet. Let’s go.”

William notes, “And mom always said the monsters under my bed weren’t

The group follows Lena to the dock. An old Frech man guides them the river on his large boat. William snaps shots of the willow trees and flower patches on either side of them. Felicity tosses her cookies in the river.

“And here I thought, I’d never hate boats worse than you, Oliver.” Felicity groans.

He helps her bend over the rusting chipped railing. She retches repeatedly, and her face has this greenish that would strangely go well with his super suit.

Oliver promises, rubbing her back as she vomits, “I got you, Baby.”

Scooby falls into the river after snapping and growling at a catfish. Two huge scaly alligators begin to set foot in the water.

Freddie declares, “Oh, no, Jacque, we have to go back and get Scoob!”

“I’m trying, my friend.” The French boatman says, wheeling clinking with a hard left spin, “But Bessie, she don’t turn on a dime.”

“Help!” Scooby yells, neck deep in the river, sputtering, and sinking fast

William asks, “How doesn’t he know the doggy paddle?”

“That doesn’t matter.” Shaggy announces, preparing to swan dive off the railing, “I’m coming buddy!”

Velma yanks her boyfriend back down to the floor, “Shaggy, no!”

“Dad, do something.”

“I can’t, Buddy.” The archer realizes as he tends to his ailing wife, “Grab my pocket bow, and shoot a net arrow just like we practiced.”

William gulps in hesitation, but finds his dad’s portable bow. He clicks a tiny green button, and it opens wide. The teenager assembles a net arrow from two pieces. He nocks it, but he’s so nervous. His hands are shaking like leaves.

“Steady. You can do it.” His father teaches calmly. With an exhale, he adds, “Breathe.”

The last part is more for his wife than his son, but William does so anyway.

The boy fires an arrow, and the verdant projectile whooshes through the air. A mesh net ripples in the water, and Scooby is saved. Shaggy and the gang breathe a sigh of relief. Scooby giggles, enjoying the ride as if he’s on waterskis. The dog blows a raspberry at his catfish before they make it to dry land.

His stepmother commends, clapping his shoulder, “You did so good back there, Bud.”

“Thanks Felicity.” A big toothy grin splits his face.

Lena advises, “Be careful, the pathway is mighty rough.”

The tour guide isn’t kidding. The vehicles jostle every which way over another bumpy dirt road. Oliver wishes he can keep a protective hand over his wife’s belly, but then he won’t be able to steer properly. It’s amazing they arrive to Moonscar in one piece. They drive around a huge azalea, and the dynamic duo smells peppers from miles away. The groups park at the main entrance. A stately blonde woman emerges from the French style mansion, petting one of her many cats. Oliver’s eyes widen at the older blonde woman.

He gasps, “No, it can’t be.”

They don’t know how they make it out of their trucks, but Oliver gravitates towards this older lady, who reminds him so very much of his mother.

“Oliver, Honey, I don’t think she’s your actual mother. She’s different.” Felicity warns, squeezing his hand to steady him.

Lena introduces, “Everyone, this is my boss, Miss Simone Lenoir.”

The archer exhales in a shaky breath, so he hasn’t seen a ghost yet.

“Lena is always bringing the sweetest guests into my humble abode.” Simone notes, French accent lilting through her English, “She is very lucky I do not mind.”

“I figured you wouldn’t.” Lena winks.

The gems on their pendants sparkle as soon as Lenoir’s new guests enter the manor, and the ladies exchange a positively sinful glance.

Oliver’s feels a sharp twinge on his abdomen in the presence of Ms. Lenoir. That minor pain only occurs when he’s in the same vincity of a great evil. Scooby-Doo, Shaggy, and William follow the savory stew smell, downing a whole of Lena’s jambalaya and red beans and rice before dinner. The boys find a huge jar of spicy red peppers in the pantry, and suck them down like oysters in one go. Their eyes water, and their body heats rise exponentially.

“Ah!” Scooby and Shaggy scramble to the kitchen sink while William nurses a whole gallon jug of crystal clear purified lake water, “So hot, hot, hot. But dee-licious.”

Oliver remarks with a tisk, “This from the boy who can’t even handle my chili.”

“Mm, aren’t Louisiana peppers, some of the hottest out there?” Felicity recalls that tidbit from a guidebook.

Ms. Lenoir confirms, “Yes, you are correct, my you really are very smart, Felicity.”

“Thank you.” Her guests chimes, but how’d she’d know?

Hard stern lines form around Oliver’s face. He definitely doesn’t trust their new Southern friends, but they can’t exactly accuse the ladies of a crime without proof. He fakes a politician’s smile, and they relax in their sleeping quarters before dinner. After a cold shower, Felicity brushes her pale orange blonde locks in the full length mirror. A surprising draft hits the couple from a closed window.

“It’s chilly tonight.” He braces his wife’s shoulders from behind, remembering when he felt this way on the island, “Felicity, I need you to stay calm.”

Her hand drapes over his, caressing Oliver’s wedding band.

She suspects, “Oh, nothing good ever comes after that sentence... What? Why?”

The chill gets colder, and a gray apparition of a soldier with a crescent shaped scar under his eye fills the mirror. Felicity shrieks in terror, muffling the volume behind her husband’s large hand purposefully, so as not to startle their son.

“It’ll be okay, Honey.” Oliver assures. His tattoo doesn’t act up, “You’re one of the good guys, aren’t you?”

The ghost nods, “Yes.”

Felicity tugs on her hair, ready to pull out fist fulls, “My husband is a ghost whisperer. Cool. How the Hell is this happening? And why aren’t you freaked out?”

“We’ve seen stranger things than this, Honey. He won’t hurt us, will you?”

“No, son.” Morgan assures, “You must leave this place.”

Felicity’s voice trembles, “W-why?”

“Leave this place before it is too late.” The spirit heeds cryptically.

He levitates Felicity towards the window in hopes that the couple will listen to him.

“Oliver, help!”

Her husband uses his body weight to help his wife drop down to the hardwood safely chair and all.

“We will. We will.” The archer promises, “But first I think we need to have a chat with Ms. Lenoir.”

On an acre of the Moonscar estate, the shadow dances to eight. Oliver, Felicity, William, and the gang eat their Louisiana feast as if everything is totally normal. Unfortunately, Scooby and Shaggy are relegated back to the VW bus since the Great Dane won’t stop picking fights with her many, many cats. Mysterious green rays dance under the bright light of the full moon. That strange engy of life revives soldiers and pirates hidden deep in the river and in dirt patches all over Moonscar island. A zombie pirate slowly shuffles to the back of the VW bus. He takes off his left bony arm and knocks at the door.

“Get out!” The zombie pirate growls.

Shaggy teeth chatter, “Zoinks, z-zombie!”

”No, it can’t be real.” Fred gasps, attempting to yank off a zombie mask, “Wow, this thing is really stuck on there.”

The disembodied pirate slurs, “Go, gret out!”

”Jeepers, zombies do exist.” Daphne whimpers, snapping her fingers, “Man I wish I had our camera. This would be a mind blowing segment for the show.”

“You heard the rombie.” Scooby ushers his friends out, “Ro, ro, ro!”

They leave their huge empty pot of crawfish shells behind, and book into Moonscar manor. Shaggy’s face is pale and sweaty.

Miss Lenoir growls, “What is the meaning of this?”

Scooby chatters nervously, “Rombie, rombie.”

“Zombie.” Lena giggles deceptively sweet, “Why whatever do you mean Scoobert?”

Oliver growls, slamming his palms against the dinner table, “You’re the pair Moonscar was warning us about.”

Lena cackles, “That old coot spoil our plans again. Too bad, you darlings won’t live long enough to save those wretched souls.”

Lena and Lenoir gaze at the light of the full moon. Their eyes turn yellow, and fur sprouts like weeds. Cat hair covers every inch of their entire bodies. Little pointy ears peek out from under the hair. They growl like jungle cats upon reaching the final stage of transformation.

Ms. Lenoir commands, “Take them to the catacombs!”

Before Lena can even touch a hair on their heads, Oliver’s Constantine tattoo glows in a heavy golden light. His azure eyes glow in an explosion of golden yellow hues.

Fred gasps, “Oh, no, is Oliver turning into a where-whatever-they-are too?”

“Werecats,” Velma surmises, touching the tip of her glasses.

A warmth washes over the archer’s body, and a golden forcefield beams out from his tattoo written in Chinese characters.

Overwatch guides, “I’ve seen him do this with Darhk. Everybody, get behind Green Arrow, now!”

The group backs out of the manor using the archer as a literal human shield. William falls back against another pirate zombie.

“Ah!” The boys yelps, chucking an arrow through the zombie’s eye socket. “Back zombie, back. Get away from us!”

“No,” His step-mother advises, “Let them stay.”

William shrieks, “What?”

“Like yeah, I’m with your kid on this one.”

The zombies are using their own body parts to fight of the werecats. It buys them time, but not much. Thankfully, they can’t break through the Green Arrow’s protective shield, although they’re running out of island. Felicity’s tire sloshes in murky corpse river water as Lenior and Lena try to drain Oliver and the Scooby gang of their lifeforce energy. She gets pretty damn close. Lenoir’s victims’ faces are starting to melt like wax candles.

“William, we’ve got to fly up to get a better view.”

Her son grits, “I repeat my question what?”

Felicity touches a spoke on her tire. Her manual wheelchair suddenly transforms into a hover car straight out of the Jetsons.

“Woah, when did you have time to do all this? It’s super schway.”

The tech genius shrugs, “Well, thank you. Besides what was I supposed to do in Bloomfield sit barefoot and pregnant on my tuchas all day?”

“Fair point.”

Felicity rummages around her jacket pocket for two vials that oddly resemble hot sauce. Constantine gave them to her just in case as he says, “You never know what lurks around Crescent City, Love.”

“Buddy, do you have more portable arrows?”

“Yeah.” He answers, slapping his back pocket, “Feels like I have two left.”

Felicity bites off the caps to the small vials and dowses and her son’s arrows in red elixir. His aim isn’t quite like his father’s, yet the projectiles nail their creepy furry targets in the paw and ear. Lenoir and Lean turn to nothing, but ash and dust after blood curdling screams.

Shaggy cries fat tears, hugging Velma and Scooby, “We’re alive.”

“Thank goodness.” Daphne declares, tackling Fred and giving him a huge wet kiss.

The zombies can finally rest as they become parts of the dirt, flowers, and willow tree. Morgan Moonscar appears two inches tall on Felicity’s shoulder.

He wails, “Thank you,” with a salute.

Felicity returns his respect with a finger flick salute.

“Our life really is a horror movie.” William sighs, his heartbeat finally calming down.

Felicity chuckles, “Come on, let’s go see your dad.”

Oliver’s eyes return to blue. He shakes his head a little of sorts. However, when he’s greeted by his three favorite people. Everything else — werecats, friendly local zombies, and the craziness of this night fade away.

Green Arrow figures, “You three save the day without me?”

“Duh,” His wife and son respond in harmony.

Mia also kicks Felicity for a kidney shot as if she wants to join the conversation. The next morning, Oliver, Felicity, and the Scooby gang find themselves in the middle of the river. Felicity is far less nauseous as she’s able to play fetch with her favorite Labrador Whippet mix, Beau. The dog drops the tennis ball in her palm.

Oliver realizes, “Sorry, if tagging along with Daph made things weird between us.”

“Traveling with your ex.” Felicity says, voice dripping with sarcasm. “No, not weird at all.”

In all honesty, that is the least crazy aspect from this entire Louisiana excursion.

He hisses, “Point taken.”

“Okay.” Felicity nods, taking his hand, “Good.”

He clears his throat, “But thank you for being by my side — no matter how crazy life gets.”

“And saving your ass from creepy werecats.” His wife adds with a cough.

Oliver repeats, “And saving my hind from creepy werecats.”

“Now come on. It’s not better until you kiss her.” William directs, pressing his fingertips together.

Oliver and Felicity lock lips in a loud wet smooch. William fires his dad’s net arrow, and a surfboard plops in the water. Despite all his fears, Scooby hops on and glides through the waves.

“Scooby Dooby Doo!” He howls into the sunlight before blowing a raspberry at a huge catfish.

**Author's Note:**

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